What Needs To Be Done
by Authorwithoutaquill
Summary: Taking back Blon to Raxacoricofallapatorius was not as easy and didn't go quite as smoothly as the Doctor had hoped. As his companions' lives are put in danger yet again, the Doctor is forced to admit his feelings for Rose Tyler and do what needs to be done.


He was absolutely _not_ going to go into her room. Even if it was only for checking on her - as Jack suggested after their incident on Raxacoricofallapatorius. Turns out they did have the death penalty. And they weren't shy of pronouncing it upon unsuspecting passersby. The guards were fairly slow, and both the Doctor and his companions could easily outrun them - which they did without any hesitation. They were truly starting to be a team, with the Doctor taking the lead and his two companions following him without a second thought. He didn't even need to look back to check if they were keeping up.

They were whooping and shouting, a few feet away from the Tardis, mocking the guards, when one of them shot a poison dart from underneath her fingernail. Jack was jumping up and down so fast, even if the dart was aimed for him the Doctor doubted it would have reached its mark. As for himself, he ducked instantly and tried to make Rose do the same, but she was too far away. He caught her wrist and tugged on it, hard, trying to force her to drop to the ground, but she danced out of the way, tongue between her teeth, not realizing what was happening until the dart landed in her back. She gasped and fell down instantly, the Doctor scrambling to catch her. She was already unconscious and for a terrifying moment he believed she was dead. His hearts seem to have stopped, momentarily on standstill, not wanting to break, too afraid to start beating. All he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears and his ragged breaths whooshing out of his lungs as he lifted her up. He wasn't going to make it to the Tardis.

But then her eyelids fluttered and Jack pushed him towards the blue police box standing on the edge of a cliff and his hearts awakened, his legs started moving and his soul lifted a little. Rose Tyler was alive. And he was going to save her, if that was the last thing he did. He rushed straight to the infirmary, not sparing a glance for Jack who was running around the console madly, trying to take the Tardis back into the Time Vortex.

In other circumstances, he would have remarked to himself that Jack was learning very fast, and was indeed the most useful companion he had in a good long while (he refused to think of Rose as "useful"); and would have said aloud how obnoxious it was of Jack to think he could play captain on his ship. But with Rose unconscious in his arms, all he could think of was how impossibly slow his legs were - they felt like lead and moved much in the same fashion as he struggled to reach the medical bay before it was too late. He had no idea what effect the poison from the Raxacoricofallapatorian's dart would have on a human, and he never intended to find out.

This was all his fault, all his damn fault! He shouldn't have been so distracted, he should have paid more attention, he was an idiot for trying to show off when their lives were in real danger. It happened to him so often it was easy to forget how real the chance of death visiting them was. As he laid Rose down gently on the examination table he wished for a moment that he never went back to tell her that his Tardis could travel in time. She said no the first time, and he should have accepted it. He should have thought about the danger he was putting her in, should have just left and never came back, should have left her alone… Tears started pooling on his eyelashes, and he brushed them away angrily. He could blame himself later, now it was time to save Rose.

He applied a greenish looking salve to her temples that he was pretty sure would neutralize the poison, but scanned her body nonetheless to make doubly sure. After five minutes of tense waiting, the cure had finally started doing its work and the poison slowly receded from her bloodstream. The Doctor heaved a sigh and took of his leather jacket, throwing it carelessly onto the counter behind his back.

He leaned against the cool metal surface and tried to stop his hands from shaking. He knew the poison could be eliminated easily, knew it very well indeed, yet his brain didn't supply this information when he was carrying Rose to the Tardis. It didn't even occur to him to keep calm, his well-worn reflexes all but gone in the face of the thought that he could lose her. And now there she was, safe and sound, laying with her hair sprawled behind her head, glinting gold in the soft light of the infirmary; her cheeks pale, her lips slightly open and hands resting gently on her stomach. She was beautiful and fragile and strong and human… and all in all the Doctor couldn't find any other word to describe her but fantastic. She was absolutely fantastic, and one of these days he was going to tell her that.

When she woke a few minutes later he composed himself somewhat and even mixed a foul-smelling drink for her that he insisted she take before going anywhere. Her reaction to the taste was, "Doctor! Do you want to poison me?" When he gruffly reminded her that her being poisoned was the reason in the first place she needed the drink, and he was just making sure that she wasn't going to collapse in the middle of their trip to Barcelona, "the planet Barcelona, Rose, not the city", she just rolled her eyes and gulped down the greyish mixture. She hopped down from the table and went to seek out Jack, who'd be "undoubtedly much better company after their adventure" than the Doctor. He didn't know which one hurt more - the fact that she thought she couldn't come to him for comfort (and who was he kidding, he couldn't comfort her; not like Jack could), or that she was so used to being hurt and avoiding death by a hair's breadth that she didn't seem to notice anymore. It was just another day at the Tardis. He sighed and shook his head, deciding to stay in the medical bay for a bit longer, and decidedly _not_ brood.

When he finally emerged from the infirmary, the only one he could find in the console room was Jack. He was sitting in a chair - his chair, he noted absentmindedly - and whistling some outrageous pop song from the 31st century that made the Doctor's head hurt. He didn't comment on it however - he was sorely aware that Jack had saved their lives by taking them away from that wretched planet. He sat down next to him and stared at the console, mind empty and a bit cold without the presence of anyone there. Rose wasn't in his head per say, when she was with him, but she certainly filled his mind - with that tongue-between-her-teeth smile and the sparkle of discovery in her eyes, and the dancing… Oh god, the dancing! He didn't know he could enjoy something so trivial as dancing so much. Didn't know before he took Rose's hands and they danced around the console, with Jack keeping rhythm, watching them with a side-way smile that never seemed to leave his face when they were both in the room.

And now they were not dancing. It was a day when everybody lived, but the Doctor didn't feel remotely happy. He felt tired to the bone, guilt pressing into this brain, the old scars reopening and he was just about swallowed up by them when he heard Jack's quiet voice speak, "She's in her room. She said she was tired and was gonna lie down for a bit."

"I didn't ask where she was."

"I know."

Jack gave him a half-sad smile and pushed his shoulders gently, ushering him towards the door leading to their bedchambers.

"I'm sure she would appreciate it if you popped by and asked how she's feeling."

"I don't do…"

"Domestics, I know Doctor. I'm hardly the man to ask myself, but she's been through a lot today. You don't need to make it any harder for her. She thinks it's her fault you know." The Doctor's head snapped up and the look of horror on his face softened Jack's intended words a little. "She usually thinks it is. And you never seem to tell her she's done good. You only point out when she's being a stupid ape, never telling her how brilliant she was. Maybe it's time you did."

The Doctor looked down, blue eyes stormy with emotion, then opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out, so he nodded and got up, taking three long strides through the room and disappearing into the shadows. Jack sighed and opened a bottle of scotch he found underneath the Tardis console. The bottle was quite dusty and for a moment he wondered how long it's been since the Doctor last let himself loose. Eons, probably. He chuckled quietly to himself, realizing how eons for the Doctor could might as well mean yesterday. He was fairly sure at least that the Doc _was_ heading for Rose's room.

There he stood, in front of her door, taking deep breaths, and definitely _not_ thinking about knocking. He didn't do domestics, the Doctor. Therefore he was just as surprised as anyone when his hand rose and knocked gently on the door. When he received no answer, he scowled and shoved his hands into his pocket, thinking it was a bad idea and already turning to go when a thought struck him.

What if Rose wasn't answering because she was hurt? What if the poison was still in her bloodstream, somehow becoming undetectable now that it merged with her human DNA? What if she was lying on her bed unconscious right this moment and he wasn't doing anything to help?

He pulled out his sonic screwdriver from his breast pocket and got the door open before he even finished his train of thought. He ran straight to the bed, where Rose indeed was lying face down, her limbs sprawled on top of the covers. He was about to cry out when he realized her back was softly rising and falling with even breaths. She was asleep. Tears came into his eyes once again, but this time he didn't stop them.

He circled around the bed so he was facing Rose, took her hand gently and kissed it with the outmost reverence. And it was in that moment that he realized - no, that he admitted to himself - that he was in love with this woman. This perfectly earth-bound, yellow-haired, curious little human had brought him, the Time Lord, the Oncoming Storm down on his knees. And he didn't mind one bit. He loved Rose Tyler and he was going to keep her safe, and keep her happy. He wouldn't ask again whether she still wanted to travel with him - he asked before and her answer was clear. No, he would take her to Barcelona, and to Rome - the city Rome, not the empire -, to the ends of human time and to the beginning of everything. He would show her all he could offer and take the Tardis where she wanted to go. And then, maybe then, he would be brave enough to tell her he loved her. Maybe even sooner, if Jack continued to push him around a bit…

As the Doctor rose from his knees and brushed Rose's golden hair out of her face, he was finally happy. He had found his family with the two of them - because Jack counted as family now, apparently, he thought with a smile. And he was going to keep them together for as long as he could.

He was walking back to the console room, thinking how he might make good on his promise to Jack about that drink (well, he asked Jack to buy it, but he didn't much care where it came from as long as it tasted good), when the object of his musings crashed into him with an almighty bang. They both landed on the floor, with Jack atop the Doctor, who was now glaring at him.

"I thought I made myself clear about wanting a drink first."

Jack scrambled up and it was only now that the Doctor noticed the panic on his face.

"What is it?" he barked out.

"It's the Tardis, Doctor. It's taking us somewhere unknown."

"You mean you've lost control of my ship, Captain?"

"No, I'm perfectly able of piloting the Tardis, we're being pulled in from somewhere."

The Doctor didn't say a word, only rushed to the console. Jack was right, damn him. They were being pulled in against their will. He turned to his friend, "Jack, go wake up Rose, there's something I need to do before we land."

The other man nodded, hesitating for barely a moment before he took off at a neck-breaking pace towards Rose's room. The Doctor heaved a sigh and turned back towards the screen in front of him. If he did this right, it might save the woman he loved. Not that Rose would ever forgive him for it, but it didn't really matter if it meant she'd live. He pushed a button and said, in a clear and determined voice, "This is emergency programme one. Rose, now listen. This is important."


End file.
